


Bloodbrothers

by turntechRavager



Series: Atlas [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Relationships, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 09:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turntechRavager/pseuds/turntechRavager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't know what this thing between you all is. What you and Kurloz and Kurloz share. Don't understand why Signless visits so frequently, whether or not your Big Bro is home, or why you've always got this strange, terrifying feeling practically consuming you. But you're a smart motherfucker. And you wonder if, just maybe, this is what a family feels like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloodbrothers

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, written on my phone at work so I apologize for any grammar errors. Please enjoy.

Everyone thinks things are back to normal with you. That you're on the pie again. That your ancestor is too. They're all motherfucking MORONS if they assume you'd ever touch that vile poisonous shit again. And it's an insult to your motherfucking blood that they'd accuse the Grand Highblood of sinking to some pathetic wrigglers level of coping. No, they don't got it in them to understand. They think you're stupid. They insult both of you by making assumptions when none of those fuckers know the first thing about you. They think Vriska had you under control, that you don't know all the shit you up and got yourself into. But isn't that the motherfucking miracle of those worthless dream bubbles?

You were one of a kind, the only motherfucker like you out there. Until you weren't. You were him. He was you. He told you all kinds of wicked shit He got up to, and you listened so intently you knew where he was coming from. Shit you would've done, tried to do, did by extension of him. While the spider bitch may have stopped you, you could feel the pleasure, the pain, the fury, the down right fucking rage through the words and images you own motherfucking self slammed down for you.

Now, they were as much your memories as his. But none of these fuckers knew that. No one but your bloodbrothers knew. Kurloz had already know, had been the one to bring you to you in the first place. The big bro took it well too. For all he smashes skulls in, he's a sharp motherfucker. Just like you. Through the paint, the blood, the lazy smiles, no one sees any of you for who you motherfucking are. They see what they see, make assumptions they all think is right, and no one sees any of you for what you are. 

Kurloz is fine with that, says with a voice only you can hear, that their beliefs will lead them down the path of ruin in time. Nothing lasts forever. But that wasn't what Big Bro thought. He overheard, course the motherfucker did cause ain't nothing private around him, and told Kurloz he of all people should know just how long forever can last. The room went quiet then, and it was one of those times you up and felt uncomfortable in your own skin. Their size differences and up bringings aside, these two were the same motherfuckers. The Prince of Rage and the Grand Highblood. Under all their fancyass titles, they were still Kurloz Makara at the end of the night.

You wonder sometimes if it bothers them, if they're holding spite against each other and it all goes over you're head. But for as smart as a motherfucker you know you are, wisdom comes with age and you ain't even a grub yet compared to them. You look up to both your bloodbros in different ways, for different reasons. And you know they gotta see something in you too, or they wouldn't keep your worthless husk around. On that same line, you also gotta wonder if they only hang with each other because of you. They rarely see eye to fucking eye, especially with Kurloz brining Leijon around so often, so you can't think of many other reasons why they'd bother. Except for the fact that no one can understand a Makara like a Makara.

You'd be fucked if it weren't all for them. You woke up, saw Atlas for what it was, and wanted to rip every single motherfucker on it apart. But Big Bro was faster, stronger, and had your sorry ass pinned with one hand covering most of your body until you chilled out. You'd clawed, growled and thrashed but it was made clear with those deep purple eyes searing into your core that you were not only wasting your time, but it was motherfucking pathetic to watch. You'd calmed down, feeling numb all over. Angry. Hurt. Lost. Alone.

It was the loneliness that got to you the most. For all the memories you felt through the stories told, you never really could grasp the whole picture. You've never had a moirail. Not a kismesis, even a dysfunctional one. No one gave a fuck about you, no one ever has. Not your lusus. Not your "friends". Not a single motherfucking soul. Maybe that's why you reacted the way you did.

The pale purple tears came before you knew how to stop them, and with the fucker pinning you down you couldn't even make a move to hide them. You felt worse than shit. You didn't know what you were living for anymore, what the purpose was. You had no purpose in the end, nothing but a pawn to be sent to die. And you sure as fuck had no purpose on Atlas. Pity from the game, the worst, most degrading kind. That's all it could be. But even then, you didn't all get the chance to think shit through. Cause before you had a grasp on what was happening, the hand holding you down scooped you up and the massive motherfucker it belonged to sprawled out with you over his chest. 

Still trapped under his hand, you couldn't escape if you wanted to. But as your tears ran free, there was a deep motherfucking rumble under you that felt like the earth was getting its shake on. It took a minute to register that wasn't the case. No, it was something much more miraculous that threw you off guard. The big motherfucker was purring. And for the first time since you could remember, you passed out and didn't dream.

The nap was the nicest shit you'd ever had, but voices had stirred you. A soft, deep, weirdly comforting voice that seemed foreign yet familiar. Another adult, which had you tensing. When it came to that shit, it was fight or flight instincts and flight usually out won out. Nothing good came of a wriggler getting in a full grown trolls way. Nothing but a fresh paint smear on the ground. It'd been different with the Grand Highblood. You were part of him, his washed up, useless legacy and you honestly wouldn't have blamed him if he'd culled you on sight.

But the rumbling is back, not nearly as motherfucking loud, but enough so you can feel it and let it calm you. But this time, you hear a soft chuckle off to the side. The same motherfucker that'd been talking before. Obviously both trolls had their know on about you being awake, so there was no point in hiding it. What you saw wasn't what you were expecting at motherfucking all.

Really though, who the fuck could ever expect What the Signless was? It confused you why he was sitting there on a ledge, perched up all casual like to be eye level with your sprawled out bloodbrother. Almost as confusing as the smile he sent your way, how those bright, disgusting mutant red eyes seemed so warm you wanted to just crawl right on over and have a nap in that cloak. But you didn't move. Didn't speak. Just listened. There was a delay. A motherfucking DELAY in those fuckers arriving. Like they all had more important shit to be doing than claiming the prize they all must be so proud of.

So you waited. You chilled. Learned. By the time those high and mighty motherfuckers finally showed up, you and your bros were there to meet them. You gave them what they wanted to see, what would make their fucking blind hopes soar. You felt how Kurloz gave your arm a warning squeeze when your body instinctively tensed while you watched the Striders, wanting to tear them apart. Felt that warm red gaze on you, not judging, but simply giving off that weird comfort you still didn't know how you all felt about.

And no one knew. No one cared. They all motherfucking assumed you were some pan fried piece of shit who ingested toxic sludge into your body every motherfucking night to keep you back to "normal". You let them think what they want. None of them see how your fists clench even when the rest of your body gives off that relaxed, aloof aura. None of them look past that vacant smile on your face. Into the burning behind grey eyes. They see what they motherfucking want to see, and the irony that it's only the one they fear and distrust the most, your Big Bro, that keeps you from snapping and doing as much damage to their precious motherfucking Atlas as you can. 

You don't know what this thing between you all is. What you and Kurloz and Kurloz share. Don't understand why Signless visits so frequently, whether or not your Big Bro is home, or why you've always got this strange, terrifying feeling practically consuming you. But you're a smart motherfucker. And you wonder if, just maybe, this is what a family feels like.

**Author's Note:**

> As I reread this for the third time, i have to stop and wonder if I accidentally Signless/GHB.


End file.
